Sullivan: Painful decision by Woods is huge setback for golf

From the day he became a golf professional and first prowled Augusta’s pine-strawed grounds, from the moment he first conquered its perfectly manicured greens, from the instant he donned the first of four green Masters jackets with a record-shattering 1997 tournament, Tiger Woods took over the Masters.

He changed everything. As a man of color, the first ever to win the Masters, he quite literally changed the face of his sport. He changed the face of the famed course, too. As a 21-year-old with very little professional experience, he announced himself an emerging golfing force, a 72-hole score of 270 (18-under par) so dominant it led Masters organizers to lengthen their fairways.

Tiger-proofing didn’t stop Woods from winning three more Masters titles, did nothing to interrupt what seemed like a certain march toward the one measure of golf immortality Woods insisted mattered most: Jack Nicklaus’ 18 major titles.

Those crusty, old Augusta men couldn’t stop him, but as cruel reality proved once again Tuesday, time may do the job for them. Woods is going to miss the Masters for the first time in his long, remarkable career, announcing via his Twitter feed and explaining on his personal website how recent back surgery to repair a pinched nerve pulled him from his favorite tournament.

It’s a sad day for Woods, and a sad day for golf.

“After attempting to get ready for the Masters, and failing to make the necessary progress, I decided, in consultation with my doctors, to have this [microdiscectomy] procedure done,” Woods said. “I’d like to express my disappointment to the Augusta National membership, staff, volunteers and patrons that I will not be at the Masters.

“It’s a week that’s very special to me. It also looks like I’ll be forced to miss several upcoming tournaments to focus on my rehabilitation and getting healthy. … This is frustrating, but it’s something my doctors advised me to do for my immediate and long-term health.”

Although it’s been years since Tiger was at his best — six since his last major title, the stirring 2008 U.S. Open he won on one leg – this still feels like a gut punch to the sport. He’s been stalled at 14 since Torrey Pines, a combination of personal foibles, messed-up mechanics and, as we see again now, repeated injury keeping him from reaching that level. And yet, we watch every major with the anticipation, that this might be the one, the one when the old Tiger is back, the one that swings the major door open and puts him back in the Nicklaus hunt.

He is that compelling a competitor, that exciting a performer. We tune in for the possibility of greatness, even when we know his best is behind him. He is the one whose popularity breaks through golf’s usual borders, drawing in casual sports fans and those who might not regularly watch sports at all.

But with every setback, with every painful wince on his once picture-perfect swing, we are forced to accept a sporting future not so much without him, but without the specter of his once-assumed superiority.

“It’s tough right now, but I’m absolutely optimistic about the future,” Woods said in the statement on his website. “There are a couple [of] records by two outstanding individuals and players that I hope one day to break. As I’ve said many times, Sam [Snead] and Jack reached their milestones over an entire career. I plan to have a lot of years left in mine.”

The statement says Woods’ goal is “to resume playing sometime this summer,” a timetable of rest, treatment and rehab that puts the U.S. Open and possibly the British Open in jeopardy too. Woods isn’t about to concede anything, but at 38, it seems his pursuit of Sam Snead’s career title record of 82 (Woods has 79) is far more possible than the reach for Nicklaus.

From the remarkable moment in 1997, from the instant he took over the Masters and took over golf, Tiger has loomed above his sport more than any figure of his time, more than Michael Jordan, more than Jeff Gordon, more than Roger Federer or Serena Williams. With his

Sunday red shirts and piston-driving fist pumps, with his chiseled frame and workout regimens, with his icy stares and colder shoulders, he had no peer. From Phil Mickelson to Vijay Singh, from Rory McIlroy to Sergio Garcia, from Padraig Harrington to David Duval, they’ve tried and failed to play Arnold Palmer to his Jack.

What man could not do, time and injury has: Turns out Woods’ biggest opponent is his own balky back. With that ailing, his sport suffers too.